


sunday best

by movements



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ableism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Diego POV, Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Klaus has powers, Misdiagnosis, Multi, No Incest, Schizophrenia, add tags as it goes, no beta we die like ben, schizophrenic klaus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-15 23:24:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21026462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/movements/pseuds/movements
Summary: Since they were just kids, Diego was well aware that Klaus saw ‘ghosts’. His hallucinations were unofficially diagnosed by his father as schizophrenia.However, when Diego finds Klaus again years after leaving the academy, he sees them too.  Namely, when his deceased brother’s fingerprints are found littered at crime scenes across town.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I hope u guys aren’t lost already lmao
> 
> first chap is the prologue, in their childhood. after this will jump into the main plot line!!
> 
> -  
also in case it’s not clear, before the events of this story, klaus is assumed to be powerless and schizophrenic. there are parts where diego and others make a lot of inaccurate generalizations/ false assumptions about schizophrenia. nothing too bad but just the general stereotypes that coming along with being misinformed and uneducated about it ig
> 
> as always leave feedback if u enjoyed!!

‘Come forward, Number Four.’

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, the few words holding a weight so heavy that it threatened the supply of oxygen in Diego’s lungs. His siblings suspected exactly what to anticipate from their Father, the 13 years worth of events that lead up to the moment. Especially those that concerned Klaus.

His brother had a particularly rough night, Diego woken up to blood-curdling screams and shouts that sent shivers rattling down his spine from down the hallway. Klaus had never been a quiet sleeper, but fits like that stuck out, especially to Reginald. Ben’s death had been a week ago, so maybe there was some sympathy within his father there. Klaus had become a burden to the man, though, complete dead weight to the Academy. Similar to Vanya.

However, while Reginald had come to a quick and abrupt conclusion with Vanya, ending her training and switching her to mundane chores, Klaus had continued to be grouped with the rest of them, despite his lack of power. Riding on the off chance that one of those days he would become overtaken with some undeniable display of the supernatural. Reginald had maintained some irrational hope and patience for his brother, hung out for so long and doubted to come into fruition. Yet their father swore and insisted there was something different.

And Number Four was different. His differences, however, weren’t expressed with unnatural strength like One or a silver tongue like Three. There was no quarrel that Four was _ different _, but just not in the way that Reginald hoped.

It was in the way that Klaus was _fucking_ delusional.

The words were harsh, even in the walled-off confines of Diego’s mind, but it was the only accurate description of his brother that he could come up with. Psychotic. Batshit. Out of his goddamn mind.

Most would agree. In fact, the whole household had seemed to come to the unanimous conclusion that this was the case.

That morning, however, was the last straw. When Reginald had walked in on Klaus ‘speaking’ to Ben four days after his death, there was something irrevocable about it.

Klaus didn’t exactly try to dispute the claim, either. But it was still shocking to see it brought up so blatantly.

“I’ve lost hope in you, boy.” Reginald informs. “Your first session with the psychiatrist has been scheduled for this upcoming Thursday.”

Number Four stood before his father, trying desperately to maintain his nonchalant facade, but the bruises that littered his pale skin paired with the twitch of his fingers, raw and chipped from scratching at his own skin, seemed to develop a conflicting image. He stumbled forward, tripping on his own foot, a wide smile pulling across his lips. 

The little shit was _ high _.

Klaus could hardly care about his father’s words, however. “Hear that Benny? Field trip!” A blissful laugh fell from his lips, as he gestured to the open air.

The room tensed with the mention of his name. It was too goddamn soon for this. Diego’s jaw tensed, and he could play it off as an instinct to anger, but he knew that it was actually a result of worry. Worry on the behalf of Klaus. Dad would already be ruthless, but he couldn’t even begin to imagine the consequences added to Klaus’... state.

Reginald’s gaze became sharp and piercing, all directed at Klaus. 

“It should’ve been you, Four.” He stated, formal and composed. And with that, he turned on his heel and exited the room. 

The room reeled in the events, but Klaus had already moved on.

-

“Is someone else… here?”

Klaus laughed easily, like they’d been engaging in a conversation for a while and Diego had cracked a joke. He caught the tinge of hysteria that bit at the edges.

“Uh, yeah?” He looked at Diego with a sort of _ ‘duh’ _ look, gesticulating at the open air of his room. “Seriously, Diego? This _ wonderful _ group of people is kinda hard to miss.” It was said as a joke, but the paranoia was evident through the nervous flicker of his eyes.

Diego liked to think that he tried, he really did. He’d usually just play along whenever Klaus was like this, if only to make him feel a little less estranged from the rest of his family. He just… needed a reality check every once in a while. He would do the same for mom, so talking to Klaus with some semblance of normalcy couldn’t be too much of a burden.

“Klaus, I don’t—“ Diego trailed off, and his words morphed into a tired sigh. “Go to sleep.’ 

Whenever Klaus was _ really _ detached, Diego would suggest that he sleep or eat or take a bath, some sort of temporary distraction that could keep him positively engaged, keeping his brother from his default habit of _ self medicating _. There wasn’t much else he could really do. 

Klaus was just so… _ convinced _.

The hallucinations had an unusually early onset. From the moment Klaus could express emotion, he was crying and wailing to the air, cowering from things unseen by nannies and caretakers. He’d talk to himself constantly, muttering and conversing with walls, letting out screams as his eyes lost focus on some random point in the room. It started out as an annoyance to those living in the house, but that irritation began to fester into worry. 

By the time training started, his siblings had already presented their abilities, whether it was made overwhelmingly obvious only days after their birth or a slow realization that spanned a decade. Ben’s abilities were obvious from a tantrum at 18 months, while Allison’s silver tongue had been a discovery made after years of subtle persuasion. Vanya never seemed to arrive at any conclusion, except that she was painfully ordinary.

So numbers 1, 2, 3, 5, and 6 started the transition to the Academy. Number 7 was declared powerless. 

Klaus had been declared schizophrenic.

At least that’s what the rest of them called him. Ben had mentioned from some books he’d read before that this was probably some extreme case of schizophrenia. Reginald could hardly care for the distinction, it was all the same to him; Number Four was an utter disappointment. And Klaus, Klaus claimed to his siblings that he ‘didn’t care for labels.’ 

A familiar breathy laugh breaks Diego from his thoughts.

“Sleep? Christ, Diego, how am I supposed to fall asleep to _ this _?” Klaus pauses as if to leave Diego time to listen to whatever he was referring to. Diego, expectedly, didn’t hear anything, so he gave a nod with a tensing of his jaw.

“Dad has stuff that helps him fall asleep. Try that.” Diego suggested dryly.

Klaus shakes his head weakly. “Dad found all my pills.”

“I meant tea, bro. Or like, breathing exercises.”

Klaus snorts, throwing his hands wildly to the air. “Ghosts don’t care about _ breathing exercises _, Diego!”

And there it is. Klaus’ ‘ghosts’. Diego pauses before the sigh he lets out.

“Klaus… y-yuh-you—“ Diego closes his eyes to take a breath, “you know they aren’t…’ He stops before he could finish the sentence, but Klaus had heard it so many times he already knew what Diego was going to say. Klaus only met his gaze with an expression he couldn’t decipher.

So Diego changed his question. “Have you taken anything today?”

“You think I’m _ high _?” Klaus squeaked. He clasped a dramatic hand over his heart, mock offense stretching over his features. “I’m offended, truly.”

“No, Klaus. I mean have you taken your meds. The ones you’ve actually been prescribed.”

Klaus stared back blankly. “I’m not prescribed anything anymore.”

“You- what?” Diego couldn’t see any good foreseeable outcome to that sentence. “What did the psychiatrist say?”

Contemplation fell over Klaus before he responded. “I don’t see her anymore. Not since… last week.”

Diego’s brain felt on repeat after asking yet another why.

“Daddy dearest didn’t really say. She quit, apparently.” Klaus laughs wide and joyful, like an inside joke between himself. “I don’t blame the lady.”

That didn’t answer any questions, in fact, it really only multiplied the ones already floating in Diego’s head.

“Klaus- what? What happened?”

He frowned, shrugging away from the topic.

“Everything was going alright when I told her I saw ghosts.”

Diego nodded.

Klaus leaned in conspiratorially. “That is, until she started to see them too.”


	2. take a slice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> diego checks out a crime scene. it’s... unusual to say the least
> 
> i cant think of any specific triggers in this, just vague memories of Reginald-typical child neglect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? actually updating a story? more likely than you think
> 
> this was supposed to have a lot more but there’s quite a bit of exposition and flashbacks so im sorry I just gotta set up the storyyy I’m sorry

Waking up ten years later, Diego still felt guilty.

The guilt had started as a quiet, subtle thing, slowly allowing itself to build up and accumulate over the years until it was toppling over Diego as a full adult who could acknowledge  _ just _ how horrendously they’d been neglected. And thinking back to their collective childhood, Diego knew they’d all had a hand in fucking up horribly when it came to Klaus. Diego couldn’t deny the part of himself that felt at least a little responsible for Klaus, the rest of that portion shared mostly by Ben, his space left empty and hollow in Klaus when he died, and no one attempting to fill it in.

The Hargreeves’ first mistake was one too easily made. It was the fact that it was simply far too easy for his siblings to watch contentedly as Klaus descended into something only accurately described as madness. He’d always been weird, sure, but so were the rest of them. Reginald hadn’t seen him as too much of an outlier in the earlier years, blindly lumping him into the same category as Vanya; disappointingly powerless, but not a complete loss.

Over the years, though, Klaus’ behavior began to change. He became increasingly erratic, more paranoid, seemed to be just a little out of it at any given time. Diego would watch Klaus slam his door behind him and hole himself in his room for hours in the middle of the night. Hear him arguing entire debates with his graffitied walls, spinning elaborate stories for his ceiling, settling himself on a pillow laid on the floor with crossed legs and tears running down his raw, pink cheeks as he pleaded and hummed with some nonexistent audience. 

He’d watched Ben disappear into Klaus’ room for hours at a time during some of his more… destructive breakdowns, the only sibling that was able to break through the thick, gooey layer in Klaus’ mind that separated him from reality. 

Everything changed after Ben’s death. It changed when Klaus was sent to a psychiatrist, when he stopped seeing her after a mere three weeks. When he’d stopped taking his prescription. When he’d finally, successfully convinced himself that it was all  _ real _ . 

Which prompted the drugs.

Diego knew all of it sounded dramatic, but that’s really just what Klaus was— dramatic. And as detached and tortured as Klaus was, he seemed to be the only sibling that laughed and smiled with such carelessness that it could be considered naïve. Klaus just expressed his emotions so easily, which Diego used to find so offsetting, who couldn’t help but feel vulnerable and exposed at the idea of expressing his own  _ feelings  _ so openly. That’s what made him weak; that was the difference between him and Klaus. 

Then again, Klaus had never had a problem with his self-expression. His father had probably just chalked it up to yet another ‘flaw’ in Four, merely a byproduct of his glaring insanity. Diego couldn’t bear to see it like that, though. When Klaus would run down the halls in Allison’s blue sequin skirts, bright yellow eyeshadow smeared across his eyelids, glitter fluttering off his skin as he stumbled over his feet in Mom’s heels. That wasn’t… whatever Klaus’ other shit was. Diego knew that was just Klaus through and through, pure at heart. 

Those were only one of the rare few moments where Klaus let a crack rip through his carefully structured facade. Diego could tell it was all a ruse, the laughs, the undertones of giggles, the lazy jokes and easy smiles and flailing limbs and deceptive carelessness. None of it was real, Diego knew.

Ben had known it too.

_ Too early for Ben talk, Diego. _

Diego squeezed his eyes shut to combat the traitorous sting of tears that had appeared out of seemingly nowhere. It was frustrating to think about his family, to contemplate any portion of their past. It simply only resulted in wallowing in traumatic memories and regrets that Diego couldn’t afford to think about anymore.

A yawn creeped up his throat as he pulled himself out of bed and hunched himself over the side of his mattress, resting there for a moment. He couldn’t spend the entire morning mulling the same shit over, he had a job and a life and  _ Eudora Patch _ , who he decided he wanted to try and see today. 

Diego finally decided it was time to properly get up and get ready for whatever he was gonna find to do for the majority of the day. He shoved himself out of bed, shrugging off each layer of his clothes as he ambled toward the communal showers of Al’s shitty, smelly gym.

Not that he could complain. He  _ was _ the one who was supposed to be cleaning it.

He made his shower quick and short, covering the basics and necessities before stepping out into a towel and brushing his teeth. He made some amalgam of whatever leftover food was crammed into his fridge into a blender and deemed it a ‘protein shake’. It was a little pathetic, sure, but Diego chugged it down and called it breakfast easily enough.

Diego was content enough with his life. He’d wake up, get ready, mop up a couple bloodied floors, then take care of business. If he had time, he’d make it up to himself by going by a crime scene and helping Patch out a little, maybe even treat her to some coffee. It was a bit of a far stretch, but Diego constantly seemed to surprise himself when it came to Patch. That was what love was supposed to do, right? Bring out the best in people?

Diego grunted a small scoff to himself as he tugged some jeans on. 

That whole philosophy sure hasn’t worked much with Allison’s marriage. According to the news, they weren’t doing too great these days. 

He’d always had the sneaking suspicion that she’d be the first one to fall in love, get married, to even start a family. He’d been invited to her wedding, that was about a year ago, which he’d tentatively but begrudgingly attended. It was nice enough, very  _ Allison _ , more expensive than Diego’s entire life, and it was almost all worth it to tease almost every aspect of the ceremony. It was all in good nature, innocent Hargreaves banter. He deserved to be able to, being only one of her few siblings that remained to attend the wedding.

Luther would’ve loved it, Diego knew that much. He would’ve loved to see Allison in her dress, he would’ve clambered over how she was absolutely radiating with happiness and strength. He would’ve been sad to see her growing up, though. He’d still be mentally stuck at age 16, squirming under Dad’s thumb, licking his boots and doing his dirty work. After all, dad’s mission to the moon was the reason he couldn’t attend in the first place. 

Of course, Klaus hadn’t been around. He would’ve loved it even  _ more _ than Luther, than any of them. He would’ve insisted on being a bridesmaid, would’ve absolutely raided her closet, tried on all her makeup and accessories. He would’ve worn something outrageous and bold, almost bordering on inappropriate for a wedding, as that seemed to be Klaus’ preferred style. He would’ve charmed all of her celebrity friends, dazzling them with his surplus of eccentricities and beamed under the positive attention. And the most glaring fact of them all, Diego knew, was that he would’ve been higher than a kite the entire ceremony.

If Five was alive, he would’ve gone. If Ben was alive, he would’ve been trailing right along Klaus’ side the entire time, using him as a safety net to catch all the attention so Ben wouldn’t be subject to the cameras and the people. He would’ve calmed Klaus down when he inevitably got overwhelmed at some point during the night, would’ve anchored him into reality and insisted,  _ No, Klaus, they aren’t real _ . Ben would’ve given Allison two kisses on the cheeks and wished her well.

None of them  _ had _ been there, though, so it was useless to think about. Although Vanya had attended, she tended to cram herself into a corner and only spoke when spoken to, usually by Allison. It didn’t differ much from their childhood, but it was nice to see at least a few of Diego’s siblings seemingly healthy and okay. 

The only living sibling that was unaccounted for was Klaus. There was practically no trace of him, excluding the occasional call from rehab, or the station reporting some public intoxication charge, or possession, or some of the worse ones that made Diego's fists clench and blood boil, aching to know who hurt Klaus. But Klaus never seemed to stick around the station long enough for Diego to catch him for a good old fashioned Hargreaves conversation; that is, a screaming, arguing, yelling match that would end with a grudge that would probably last for years. 

He knew it was inevitable that they’d run into each other one of these days, what with Klaus being a raging drug addict that probably lived on the streets, and himself as a vigilante, ex-cop that practically had each alleyway memorized. Diego refused to believe that he could live the rest of his life with at least some closure that Klaus was secure and relatively stable; or as stable as Klaus could get.

Diego pulled out from his thoughts, and figured he’d get his… more menial duties finished earlier, so he could save time to stop by an investigation or two. If he happened to see Patch along the way, it’d simply be Diego’s luck. 

—————-

Diego finished all his gym work around 12 pm, giving him plenty of time to fill his day doing whatever it was he decided on. 

There weren’t too many options, but there were enough that Diego could mull them over with a decent amount of thought. It was early,  _ too _ early to be running around the city in black leather and a knife harness. He had enough common sense to know that would get him arrested in a few short, embarrassing moments. It wouldn’t be the first time Patch had him bent over and handcuffed.

He snickered to himself. Diego would like to see Patch, but he didn’t want to overcrowd her just yet at work. There was always the option of driving around the city and intervening with smaller scale, more isolated acts of crime. Diego grimaced at his hobbies of choice.

Patch always suggested he take up painting, or cooking. He supposed painting could be therapeutic, but cooking was out of the question. He was a lost cause with anything further than a blender, or a microwave. 

He decided to go with his initial thought, stalking over towards the police scanner that was propped on his windowsill, switching it on with a click and tuning out the crackle. The words cut in and out for a moment, and he listened intently for a few moments before gathering his things and pushing out his door. He ended up sitting in his car for a few minutes before deciding which crime scene would be easiest to get in and out of without his mask. Which crime he could intervene without giving away vigilante justice, and resembling more of “bystander at the wrong place, wrong time.”

He finally decided on a report of a robbery in a seedier part of town. So he shifted his car into gear and made his way to some rundown liquor store, driving just fast enough to beat out any police officers who had the same idea.

And when he arrived at the scene, he’d accomplished exactly what he’d been going for; being the only one there. Something rotten curled up in Diego. The police would probably take hours, days to get back to this business, just because of the area. Somebody could be hurt, and they wouldn’t give less of a shit. It almost made Diego grateful for dropping out of the police academy. 

Okay, ‘dropping out’ was putting it kindly.

Diego shoved his way out of the car, parking it down the street to look less conspicuous. He approached the liquor store tentatively, the possibility of remaining robbers still lingering around the area. It was unlikely, but the guys had probably been armed, and Diego figured it was better safe than sorry.

When he entered the shop, it was quiet. It was also completely empty.

Diego contemplated whether it would be smarter to call out for any victims, or if he should remain silent while he ruled out the possibility of any remaining attackers. So he stalked around the item shelves, making his rounds around the comically small store, before deciding the only threat left was the absolute filth caked onto the floors and shelves.

Diego decided to test his luck. “Is there anyone here?” He called out.

Silence rang in the air. He supposed that was an answer in itself.

“Okay, guess we’re done here.” Diego muttered under his breath. Well, that was a waste of gas.

“Sir?”

Diego whipped his head around. A girl’s head poked tentatively around a corner. She looked young— maybe 17. She wore her uniform, blue badge labeled  _ CASHIER  _ in bold letters.

“Are you okay?” Diego asked. He scanned to see any outward injuries, and didn’t see any to take account of. She also seemed okay enough to put herself into the open area of the store, so maybe that meant the robbers left a while ago.

She merely furrowed her brow. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. You’re the police?”

He didn’t feel right lying to an actual teenager, so he shook his head. “The store looked empty and I was just passing by. Just checking if everything was okay.” He continued to lie. It was a more moral lie.

Her brow was set further. “Oh.” Diego tilted his head in curiosity. “We filed a police report for theft, like, three days ago.” 

Diego could only stare blankly. He grunted out a quiet “huh”, before finishing “Well, if everything’s okay here, I’m leaving. Have the police investigated the report yet?”

The girl shook her head. “They won’t listen.”

Diego’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” The police  _ didn’t _ tend to listen, but this seemed to have more than she let on.

Right then, a man lumbered out from a back room. “They won’t believe me.” He grunted. The girl barely acknowledged his presence, simply nodding in agreement.  _ He must be the manager. _

Diego wanted to just demand a straight answer, but he pushed down the thought. “So what happened?”

The man leaned in conspiratorially. “You won’t believe it either.”

Diego deadpanned, “Try me.”

The manager leaned back against a window. “It was like something straight outta some horror film. Real freaky shit, man.” He paused, glancing at the girl, who looked solemn and seeo. “We were both here when he came.”

“What did  _ he _ look like?” Diego could still try to form some sort of profile for the guy, although it was a bit of a long shot. 

“We couldn’t get a good look at him. He was wearing some black hoodie, pulled over his face. And get this; he was  _ flickering _ .”

Diego stood speechless. 

Diego wasn’t a stranger to people claiming to see some crazy things, having grown up with Klaus in the household. His typical reaction would be to nod along, to prompt the person to continue while he internally thought of ways to de-escalate the situation. He’d done that with Klaus, and he could do that with this guy. 

“Anyways, this guy walks in, grabs some shit, walks right back out, and get this; the dude  _ disappears _ . Like full fucking  _ dissipates _ into the air.” He recalled, eyes wide and serious. The girl continued to nod along.

“Yeah. Okay.” Diego grunted. He was starting to understand why the police department didn’t come to investigate.

“Don’t believe me? Look at this.”

The man beckoned at Diego to approach him, and continued to urge him to follow down one of the aisles. Diego wondered for a moment if he was wasting his time entertaining this, but decided that he wouldn’t have much to do until later, so he could hear a little ghost story. It vaguely reminds him of something Klaus would says, some spooky story that he’d come up with after hours of speaking to walls.

The man suddenly came to a stand still. Diego approached slowly, leaning over the man’s shoulder to get a good look. There was a little portion of the aisle crudely taped over with some tacky yellow tape that Diego could laugh at.

Then he saw it, and Diego wasn’t laughing.

“This is where he was.”

Smeared across the floor was something sticky and sleek, almost resembling dog slobber, but in too copious amounts to possibly be that. The trail of it seemed to drag against the floor, before stopping in front of the frozen section.

The man was speaking, but Diego only leaned in to examine what was taken, breath creating a fog hole in which he could see through the glass. And there it was, but glaringly  _ not _ there, among the frozen contents, a gap. 

One missing box of waffles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always leave feedback if u enjoyed!! <3
> 
> i genuinely had... fun writing this?? wow crazy huh
> 
> next chapter will be meeting patch and actual substance I’m sorry

**Author's Note:**

> as always leave feedback if u enjoyed!!


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